


The Devil in Brogues

by byebyebluejay



Series: SellSoul [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - Demons, Gen, Soul Selling, demon jim, mention of drugs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-04
Updated: 2016-08-04
Packaged: 2018-07-29 05:27:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7671859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/byebyebluejay/pseuds/byebyebluejay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The soulless have certain abilities: they can read and manipulate minds, track anyone they know, and devour souls, among other things. But losing your soul carries a price. Sebastian decides it’s worth a shot anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Devil in Brogues

There was a time when demons were relegated to the backrooms of seedy bars, brothels, flophouses and prison yards: places where the desperate and disenfranchised congregated. Sebastian found his in a converted house in Belgravia. A shortish, dark-eyed one that wore an Irish skin and shiny black brogues. Both suited him. They met over coffee that the demon’s blond retainer served. He was pretty, but Sebastian was surprised by the choice. Having one of the soulless meandering around the office couldn’t be good for business. It reminded people of the risks. Then again, Sebastian had only seen demons’ offices on television—the sort of dramas that cluttered up late night programming—never in real life. Deals with demons were generally private occasions, and Sebastian didn’t go into anything half-hearted. Maybe having a soulless servant who failed to come into their own was the standard.

The demon took a sip of his coffee and stretched out his legs. The suit he wore probably cost more than three months of Sebastian’s rent. It smacked of some high-end designer. The whole house did. Demons didn’t accept conventional currency, but they never seemed to need to in situating themselves exactly the way they liked. 

“So,” The demon said, his voice unnaturally sweet and light under the affected Dublin drawl, “What can I interest you in today, Mr. Moran? I have the standard available, of course, and I also offer bespoke services if you want something more… personal.” His corpse white tongue slid out from between his lips to wet them, and he smiled when he caught Sebastian staring. White teeth. White gums. White tongue. Like someone had taken an eraser to his insides. There was always something wrong with demons. Always some tell-tale sign. Sebastian caught himself before he allowed the silence to drag on too long. 

“The standard,” Sebastian answered, setting aside his coffee so he could face the demon without distractions. The demon’s smile only widened. 

“The standard,” He echoed, “The standard... You don’t sound as though you have any questions.”

“That’s right.” 

“No doubts?” Sebastian didn’t tolerate doubt. 

“None whatsoever.” 

“This feels too easy,” The demon pouted, leaning back in his desk chair and pivoting side to side on his toe, “You don’t want me to woo you? I could charm and flirt. I could put you under my thrall for a little while. I could whisper sweet nothings in your ear about power and immortality and freedom. Seduce you with all of the promise life holds for the soulless. Every time I say your name could be like a shot of heroin. You don’t want that?” The suggestion had its allure. A brush of skin against skin and the demon could take on the form that would be most pleasing to him, or drown him in empty, drug-like euphoria. But Sebastian had made up his mind already, and beyond that, it didn’t matter.

“I won’t remember it, will I?”

“Well, no,” The demon admitted, “You keep your consciousness and your body and deeply, deeply rooted things. Primal things. Not everyone has what it takes.” He reached out to stroke his retainer’s arm, who stood there, quiet and indifferent. “Why is it that you want me to take your soul?”

“Revenge.” The demon leaned forward, taking in a deep breath as though trying to catch a scent off Sebastian’s skin. After a moment he smiled that white smile again, and leaned back. 

“I think your chances are good that it will pull you through. Your soul is loose already. I want to pluck it out like a rotting tooth,” His fingers crawled forward a few inches across the desk, “Are you sure you don’t want me to convince you this is the most delicious possible idea? It would be fun.” Sebastian wrinkled his nose and shook his head. 

“You’ll just remind me what I’ll be missing out on.” The demon shrugged airily. 

“The soulless can still experience pleasure. It’s just different.” 

“Still.” 

“Suit yourself,” The demon sniffed, withdrawing his hand, “Do you have a phylactery? Something to bind your soul to? I have a few standard options, but there’s always an increased element of risk…” 

Sebastian withdrew a pair of dogtags on their chain and slid them across the table to the demon. He had come prepared. He just wanted to get this over with. The demon flipped them over with long, clever fingers and examined them, humming in obvious pleasure. 

“Oh, a soldier. I love a man in uniform. Now, Mr. Moran, here’s our bargain,” He reached into a desk drawer and removed a document covered in demon-favoured hair-fine text, “I take your soul and bind it to your phylactery. If you ask for it back before your natural lifespan has elapsed, I’ll give it to you. No questions asked. After that, it’s mine to keep. But you won’t want it back, anyway. No one ever asks.”

“In terms of the powers, how will I—“ 

“There isn’t a how,” The demon said dismissively, waving a hand, “You just will. Or you won’t. As I said, not everyone has what it takes. So,” He pushed a steel nib fountain pen across the table alongside the agreement, “Just sign, and I’ll take care of the rest.” 

“Before I do this,” Sebastian grabbed the letter he had written to himself out of his coat pocket and nudged it towards the demon, “Can you make sure I take this letter afterwards?” 

“Of course.” 

Sebastian’s hand didn’t hesitate as he snatched up the pen and scrawled his signature on the bottom line. The demon beamed and took the paper back, handing it to his retainer, who immediately moved out of the room. 

“Very good. Now then. This won’t hurt a bit.”

Sebastian woke with something burning hot and raw in his chest. The room he was in was large and clean. The floor felt uncomfortable against his spine. He sat up. A sharp contrast of light and dark drew his eyes towards a being sitting behind a desk. It was human sized, but its shape was difficult to pin down. It deflected scrutiny and made his head spin. It was a demon, he knew. He could feel its empty hunger, and could see it drawing in the fringes of light off a necklace of some sort, transfixed. It had the tang of a soul about it, but Sebastian didn’t know how he knew that. He didn’t care. Demons could indulge their innate weaknesses if they wanted to. He had something important to do. What was it? 

_You pulled through nicely, Sebastian. You look good._

The demon spoke directly into his mind, evidently not distracted by the soul anymore. Its silvery glow had disappeared. The demon's voice felt like the tendrils of some creeping plant, at once insidious and mesmeric. 

“I have something important to do.”

_Revenge, you said._

“Huh.” He didn’t remember that, but the word felt right. Vengeance. Righteous blood and fire. The who or the why didn’t carry much importance, though. No point in thinking too hard about it. 

_I’m supposed to give you this._

The demon held up a thick white envelope, and Sebastian accepted it, tearing the top open and dumping the contents onto the dark wood of the desk. Papers fell out, and Sebastian pawed through them. It contained names and addresses that mostly had no meaning, though apparently he had a flat, alongside several keys. There were photographs, too. He memorized his home address and pocketed the keys before turning away. 

_You don’t want these?_

“I don’t need the clutter,” Sebastian shrugged, “I got the important stuff.” The place where the demon’s head looked to be split open, something white gleaming out from inside the shifting shadow. He got a strong impression of glee. The demon found this very funny for some reason. 

_I’ll put them with your phylactery. I don’t imagine I’ll see you again._

Sebastian closed the door of the office behind him and started down the hall towards the front door. There was no reason not to snub a demon. They were weak. And there was nothing they could do to him anyway. He didn’t have a soul.


End file.
